


When the Flowers Bloom

by clare009



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama, Joseon Period, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-07-18 19:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16125371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: In his twenty-one years, Jiyong has only experienced a life of ease and frivolity. Being the crown prince of Joseon has its perks. But all that comes crashing down one night when he's forced to leave his title and the palace behind, and his path just happens to cross that of a young and upright Magistrate by the name of Lee Seungri.





	1. Ride or Die

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I know nothing of the lives of Kwon Jiyong and Lee Seungri and I'm pretty sure they never lived in Joseon. I'm also not Korean or scholar of Korean history, so please forgive any misrepresentations. All I've learned has come from watching Sageuks. This is not the real Joseon. It's a work of fiction.
> 
> Warnings: There may be graphic depictions of violence, allusions to attempted rape, and two men having consensual sex. There won't be a tragic ending. (I'm looking at you Scarlet Heart!)

"Your highness, please wake up!" 

His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Jiyong of the Kwon clan frowned at being so rudely disturbed. His slumber was of the utmost importance, particularly since he had been partaking in wine and revelry until the early hours of the morning, unknown to all but his most trusted bodyguard. Youngbae of the Dong family, a family who had served his mother's household for decades, had seen his disguised and inebriated self secretly back into the palace mere hours before, putting him to bed and encouraging him to sleep, now seemed insistent that he wake up, so much so that he was shaking him. 

"Your highness, you have to wake up now! It’s urgent that I bring you to the queen’s quarters."

Jiyong stirred at that and opened an eye. "What's going on, Youngbae-yah?" Jiyong had never stood on formality with his bodyguard since they'd grown up together, studied and trained together, and been treated in every possible way as equals until Jiyong had been made the heir apparent on his eighteenth birthday three years ago. 

Youngbae, on the other hand, was a stickler for propriety. "Your highness, we don't have much time, please!"

It was that last please that was threaded with emotion that Youngbae seldom showed that made Jiyong finally sit up. "Tell me," he said.

"Here, put this on." Youngbae threw a pile of clothing at him. 

Jiyong followed the instructions, fumbling with the green robe even though his mind was now buzzing with unasked questions. When he was dressed, he plucked at the front of his robe and finally asked, "Why am I dressed like a eunuch?" 

"Just keep your head down and follow me." Youngbae said before sliding the door to his chambers open and peeking out. "It's clear, let's go."

He wasn't going to get any more information out of his bodyguard. He at least knew that much from the stiff set of Youngbae's shoulders and the look of single-minded determination on his face. He wasn't sure he wanted answers to the multitude of questions racing through his head. No, in fact he really didn't want answers. He couldn't recall a time when his mother had summoned him before the sun had a chance to show itself over the horizon. 

Jiyong followed his bodyguard through the twists and turns of the Joseon palace. They crouched in the shadows between buildings, running quietly across moonlit courtyards when they were empty, and ducking down behind carved statues when the sound of boots echoed on the ground. 

Something was buzzing in the air. Jiyong could swear he smelled fear in the air. Besides the guard, of which there seemed to be an abundance, nobody else was stirring, not even a scullery maid tiptoeing out of the palace to meet her lover. That, and the chill that had set into the air finally sobered Jiyong up. His head cleared from the cloud of the previous night's debauchery and he shivered.

They entered the quarters of the Queen consort, and Youngbae took the precaution of leading them through the servant's entrance and the back hallway until Jiyong found himself outside his mother's chambers. The moonlight cast long shadows across the paneled door. Youngbae quietly announced their presence. 

When the doors slid open, his mother's lady in waiting, Lee Sanggang, ushered them both inside with a fearful look. She bowed before Jiyong before saying in a shaking voice. "Your highness, we have no hope. Please don't take up too much of her time. She is refusing the opium until she can talk to you, but she is in so much pain--" Her words were cut off with a sob as she brought her hand up to cover her face.

A stab of fear cut through him at her distress. Jiyong rushed past her and was across the room entering his mother's bed chamber before anyone could draw a second breath. The tableau in front of him made him clutch his hand to his chest. His mother, the Queen consort, was laid out in bed, her skin pale and ashen and her eyes glassy in the dim light of the flickering lamps. The royal physician kneeled next to her with his head bowed while one of his assistants dabbed a red cloth at the Queen's mouth. 

In another moment, he realized the cloth wasn't red. It was soaked with blood. 

As he ran to her side, he felt his knees collapse beneath him. "What is this?" he cried as he grasped his mother's hand. "Why are you like this?"

The queen's eyes flickered and turned to him. She parted her bloody lips and drew in a ragged breath. It was the physician who supplied his answer. "Your highness. The queen has been poisoned. Despite my efforts, she is dying. I'm sorry."

Jiyong felt himself waiver as his vision went black. He fought for a moment, and managed to hold on to his senses. "Who did this?"

"Now is not the time for anger," the queen spoke, her voice tired and breathy, but still strong. "The chief royal concubine has given birth to a son.”

"So it was her? Is she that cold?" He could feel his mother's fluttering pulse in the thin wrist he held. 

"You know her ambition. She has completely bewitched the King and now she has succeeded in removing me from her path. You will be next. You must flee."

Jiyong shook his head. He turned to the physician. "How much time does she have left? Are you sure she won't survive?" 

"The queen is very ill. If the poison is what I think it is, she will not survive to see the next sunset. However, if she does make it that far, then there is some small hope."

"Did you hear that?" He whispered, bending low to bury his face against his mother's side. He couldn't show his weakness. He couldn't cry. "There's still hope."

He felt her hand rest on his head. "My son. You are all that I have. Even if I survive, she will not fail the next time. And she and the faction loyal to her will hunt you and slaughter you. We are not strong enough. Even the palace guard is hers. They will be looking for you and any of the ones who serve us as we speak. Our only advantage is that they cannot afford an open rebellion."

She coughed, and Jiyong felt the spasms that wracked her body. He sat up and brushed the hair from her face. She felt as hot and dry as a stone left to bake in the sun. "Can you give her something to make her more comfortable?”

"The opium will help," the physician replied. "But she refuses it."

"I will take it, only after you leave." 

"Take it now," Jiyong urged. "I will stay with you, mother."

"You must leave." His mother coughed again, and this time what seemed like a river of blood came from her mouth. The assistant quickly dabbed it up and shot him a pleading look. After the spasms died down, she closed her eyes. "Take Dong Youngbae with you. You will need to hide yourself well. Go to my friend. A woman who I love very much. Lee Sanggang will give you the directions as well as a letter to take to her from me. Go. Go now. Jiyong. Do this for me."

Her words were fading. Her fluttering pulse grew faint. Everything turned cold. His mother was dying. This once proud woman had been reduced to a shell in such a short span of time and it made his insides boil. She had been smiling and teasing him when he'd visited her two mornings past. "I promise I will not rest until that woman has been cut down."

"Yes," his mother sighed. "Avenge my death. You must become the king. I won't accept less for you, my son, than the throne. You must rule Joseon."

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears. He wouldn't cry. He would never cry again. "Goodbye, mother."

When he strode from the room, he knew he had left his own mother to die. Lee Sanggang held out the directions from his mother and the letter to her unknown friend with shaking hands. Jiyong bowed his head and gently took the papers. "Please stay by her side."

"Of course, your highness. I will die with her if I must."

"There is no need for that. Just comfort her, please." He turned to his bodyguard, his friend, who was waiting at the door with a grim expression. "I want you to stay with her, too."

Youngbae's eyes flashed. "The queen has instructed me to accompany you."

"No. This time you will obey me." JIyong sighed. "Younbae-yah, please, if there is even the slightest chance that she could pull through, she will need you. She will need as many loyal to her as she can get. If… If she does not, then you will have another important mission. You know what you need to do in preparation for my return. Make no mistake, I will return."

Youngbae bit his lip and his internal war showed clearly on his face for a moment. Then he bowed his head. "Yes, your highness. You can trust me."

Jiyong gave a grim smile. "I know." 

"I'll get you out of the palace first." Youngbae said. "And then you're on your own."

Nodding, Jiyong said. "Let's go." When he walked out through the doors of his mother’s quarters, he didn’t ever want to look back again even though he knew one day he would have to. 

Youngbae lead him out of the palace without incident. Jiyong scaled the final wall just as the first fingers of sunlight were spreading over the eastern horizon. He hopped to the ground on the other side with the ease of having done it a multitude of times in the past. But instead of his heart fluttering at the thought of an exciting rendezvous or some other thrilling pursuit, he felt numb and cold. He'd left any sense of feeling back in the room his dying mother occupied.

A pair of horses, a mare and a gelding, were tethered close the the wall. Youngbae had already prepared everything before he'd been woken up. Jiyong knew his friend had given him those few oblivious moments of sleep as a gift. Sleep would be a luxury going forward. 

His friend rubbed the nose of the brown mare, one that was a favorite of his. She whickered at him and he whispered to her, "take good care of this one. Make sure he survives."

"Let her stay, I'll take the other," Jiyong said. 

Shaking his head, Youngbae smiled. "Take them both. You will need to outrun the palace guards. You won't need to rest the horses as often with the two of them. Just be careful. It won't be long before they'll realize you've gone. I'll try to distract them, but--"

Jiyong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Don't. Your only goal now is to protect the queen for as long… for as long as it is necessary." His voice broke. 

Before he could prevent him, Youngbae had dropped to his knees and bowed low, his head resting on the ground by his feet. "I swear on my life, I will protect the queen in your place, your highness."

"Bae-yah." Jiyong used the childhood name for his friend. He gently urged him back to his feet. "Don't do this now. I need a friend, a brother, not a subject. I don't need you to swear on anything. I just need you to keep your head on your shoulders long enough to find me again when the time is right. Do you understand?"

Youngbae blinked a few times and nodded as Jiyong looked earnestly into his eyes. He said quietly, "Please stay safe. Yong-ah, I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

Feeling his cold center crack just a little, Jiyong pulled the other man towards him and embraced him. "Don't worry about me. I'm tougher than I look."

They embraced for only a moment before Youngbae stepped away and fiddled with something on the mare's saddle. Jiyong knew his friend wasn't comfortable with displays of affection. He looked back towards the palace walls, and for a moment he wondered if he would ever return. His time as the crown prince were numbered in the breathes his mother still took. Once she was gone, that woman would have him dethroned in an instant. She would have his head, too, if he let her. He was rather too attached to it, though. If he chose, he could turn his back on the palace, on the nation, and live out his life as a normal man. The thought was gone in an instant. That would never be his road. Jiyong knew his path would always lead him back to the center of Joseon. 

He hoisted himself into the saddle of the mare while youngbae tethered the gelding to her.

"There's a little food and money in the saddlebags. I'm sorry I couldn't scrounge up more. I also put a change of clothes. A disguise for when you come across a town. From the directions the queen gave, you need to go to Gwangju of Jeolla-do. There you must find the gisaeng Hong Mae--she is the woman the queen would entrust you to. It should take three days at the most. Less if you ride hard and travel directly South. You’ll have to avoid the roads and cities unless you have no choice…"

"Don't concern yourself with me from this moment on, my friend. I'll manage to stay alive, if that's what you're worried about."

Youngbae nodded. "If I can, I'll send word."

"It's better that you don't. They can't track me that way."

"Here." Youngbae pulled a long dagger from inside his robe. "I would give you my sword but you're a better close quarter fighter than a swordsman anyway." 

Jiyong took Youngbae’s dagger and flicked at the sharp edge. "I'm hoping not to get close enough to use it. Or not get skewered before I get the chance to."

"You're quick. Use that to your advantage."

For a moment, Jiyong hesitated. There was so much he could say to his friend, so much to be thankful for. He felt like a coward tucking his tail between his legs and running while he knew Youngbae would have the more difficult position. But that was always the plight of being a ruler of men: knowing that there were those better than you who would sacrifice themselves for you to go on. But despite all the things he could have said, he knew words would not be able to express it all. Instead, he simply nodded, then kicked his heels and spurred the mare to run. 

When he looked over his shoulder, Youngbae was already scaling the wall back into the palace. 

Jiyong set a fast pace through the trees, purposefully avoiding the roads. He knew his speed was hampered by the terrain. He hoped he could make up for it by confusing the ones that would be looking for him. That woman had many on her side who were filled with as much greed and ambition as she was.

The concubine, Royal Noble Consort Suk of the Yang clan, had in space of four seasons supplanted his mother in the King's affections. When she'd first been brought to the palace, Jiyong had thought nothing of her--just another one of his father's shallow women. He was wrong to misjudge her. He hadn't been the only one to be fooled by her. Even his mother, who was as shrewd as they come, hadn't put much stock in the King's infatuation with another pretty face. Consort Suk turned out to be so much more than that. The woman had plotted, schemed and wheedled her way into a position of authority, and now that she'd born a son, nothing would stop her from achieving her goal. She wanted the throne.

Jiyong knew his father would probably not survive once the new prince was appointed the heir in his place. The woman would make it look accidental, but his death would seal her role as regent for the infant prince. It should bother him that his father was in danger, but he only knew of the king as his father in a very abstract way. His relationship with the man behind the crown didn't exist beyond formalities.

But the thought of the wrong done to his mother froze his heart. He pushed the horses harder, knowing he needed to run and live in order to return with power and avenge his mother’s death. Call it justice, call it revenge, call it putting the world to rights, or easing his own pain, but he would make sure that woman wouldn't live to see her son rule Joseon.

He made it well into the morning without seeing any signs of pursuit. He knew he'd pushed his mounts hard, so he set a gentler pace as they walked up the slope of a steeper hill. The South road was a few spans to the east of his current position, but he was well outside of his area of knowledge this far from the palace. Jiyong had visited each of the capitals of the eight provinces when he'd come into his majority, but those excursions had been sanctioned by the king and he'd been surrounded by an entire household of servants and lackeys for the duration. He'd barely seen the outside of the palatial government houses he'd been quartered at. 

He remembered more clearly than the others, perhaps, his visit to Jeolla-do, because his mother had accompanied him. They'd stayed in the capital Jeonju, and it was there he'd become acquainted with his mother's family. He had never been interested in palace politics, so he'd also never wondered why his mother's family had not accompanied her to the capital when she had been married to the king. Maybe he should have paid more attention. Why his mother would have him hide with a gisaeng from Gwangju when her own family were in Jeonju?

Jiyong wiped the sweat that formed on his brow. The heat had already reached an intolerable level and the glare was hurting his eyes. He was starting to itch beneath the heavy green eunuch robes. At some point he would need to discard them, anyway. Eunuchs spotted this far from the palace not accompanied by other officials were usually tagged as runaways. 

After riding a little further, Jiyong dismounted when he came across a stream where the horses could refresh themselves. When the mounts had had their fill and he'd replenished his own store, he dug through the saddlebags to see what other items Youngbae had sent him with. There were a few small portions of food, rice and meat and some kimchi, some copper coins, and the change of clothes Youngbae had promised. Jiyong pulled out the garments and then groaned. 

"That son of a dog." 

What he was holding up was clearly a woman's hanbok. He checked the saddlebags again, and sure enough, there were hemp sandals and other accessories to match. The hanbok was plain, something a well off woman would wear for her daily activities. He shook his head as he began to divest himself of his current attire. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd disguised himself as a woman to get around undetected. Youngbae had always teased him about how he made a pretty girl. Now it didn’t feel so much like a game.

He pulled on the petticoat and tied the rust colored chima around his chest, letting the folds of fabric fall to just above his ankles. Then he slipped his arms through the blue dyed jeogori and tied the front ribbon. The socks and hemp sandals came next, and lastly was his hair. Jiyong reached up to unpin the sangtu that was wound tightly on the top of his head. His black hair unraveled to fall over his shoulders. He did the best he could to finger comb the thick locks out, then he fumbled with braiding them into a long rope that reached the center of his back, and tying it with a wide ribbon. 

Tucking his mother’s letter beneath the collar of his jeogori, he smoothed the pleats of the chima down. He looked like the epitome of a land owner’s daughter. 

Whistling to call the horses back to him, he mounted the gelding this time, sighing at having to rearrange the volume of cloth he wore. Just as he was about to move on, the mare behind him snorted and he looked back to see that her ears were pricked to attention. 

“What is it, Jagi?” 

The horse snorted again, and Jiyong shielded his eyes so he could scan the surrounding terrain. Nothing moved. Not even a breeze stirred. Despite that, a prickle of fear ran between his shoulders. He felt for the reassuring cool leather of the dagger hilt, then gently nudged his horse forward. 

Over the next two days of travel, setting a demanding pace, sleeping once on the hard ground with one eye open, and running out of food, Jiyong could not get rid of the idea he was being watched. He had stayed out of sight of the road, but had not traveled too far from it for fear of getting lost. Now he was looking down into a valley at the clustered buildings of a small settlement. His stomach growled loudly as the sun began to shed its last light over the horizon.

He needed to go to the village. He couldn’t continue to avoid people. A meal was the first thing he wanted to find to start with. And he wanted to sell one of the horses before he reached Gwangju—besides the extra money, he didn’t want to look more suspicious with two horses as a lone female than he already would be. He would have to test out his disguise at some point, too. The village seemed about the least threatening prospect. 

And the possibility of an inn, some simple food and a dry mat to sleep on made him swoon. 

He was about to move when suddenly he was grabbed from behind and yanked from his saddle. A hand went over his mouth, stifling his cry.

“So pretty,” a gruff voice breathed into his ear. Jiyong’s stomach turned at the overpowering smell of the man. “I’ve been wondering why a palace Eunuch would disguise himself as a girl.” 

Jiyong struggled to move but the man was much bigger and stronger than him. His arms were pinned tightly to his side and he couldn’t even reach Youngbae’s dagger. He did the only thing he could think of: he bit the man’s hand.

The man shrieked and pushed him away. Jiyong stumbled to the ground, a sudden pain slicing through him as his side was gouged by a sharp rock. The man was on him from behind before he had a chance to breathe.

“I’ve been stalking you for two days, pretty. Don’t you think I deserve a reward? You’re practically a girl anyway. I don’t care which hole I gotta stick it in to.”

“Not without a fight, dog!”

His head was slammed into the dirt for that comment. “You can try. I like it better that way. I like the hunt. And the kill.”

The man’s hot breath against his neck made him want to vomit. Jiyong tried to get some leverage from underneath, but the pain in his hip made him see white. He gritted his teeth together as the man attempted to hike up the fabric of the chima. 

All his training with Youngbae fueled his muscles. He’d always been the better wrestler despite Youngbae’s superior strength. With a loud cry, he twisted with all he could muster and launched the man off of him. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and ran. The horses were nowhere to be seen, having been spooked, and he could hear the curses of the man behind as he ran for the village below.

“Who are you running off to you little prickless cunt,” the man yelled. “What do you think they’ll do when they find out what you are?”

With every step, the pain in his hip was blinding. He rounded the edge of a copse of trees and startled short when he saw a horse and rider galloping towards him. Every inch of his body froze when the rider lifted a bow and aimed it straight at him. There was nothing he could do, he didn’t even have time to draw his next breath before the arrow was whizzing towards him. 

When he did breathe again he wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. Then he heard a thud behind him. He turned to see his attacker sprawled out on the ground with the shaft of the arrow sticking out of his chest. The man was dead. 

The rider slowed his pace and lowered his bow. The setting sun flared behind him so Jiyong couldn’t make out his features, but he appeared to be wearing the uniform of a guardsman. No, not a guardsman, now that he saw the colors of the uniform, A magistrate. 

The rider dismounted a short distance away. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice gentle as if he was talking to a frightened animal. “I saw the altercation from below. I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner.” 

He stepped closer as Jiyong began to waver. He looked down to where his hand was pressed against his hip and saw it was sticky with blood. His vision started to close in on him. 

“You’re hurt.” The magistrate said. He was close enough now that Jiyong could see his soft brown eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in them. “Let me help you.”

Now there were spots forming in his vision. The pain was too much. He gritted his teeth and fought against the wave of unconsciousness. “Gisaeng Hong Mae. Please take me to her. Only her.”

He lost the battle.

As the world went white and he started to fall, he felt gentle arms catch hold of him and surround him with care.


	2. Who You?

When Jiyong came to, he was looking into the face of a stranger. The stranger loomed close and the corner of his mouth twitched. 

"I see you've finally decided to wake up," the stranger said. His voice was deep and threaded with amusement, and his accent was a little strange. "And at the most inopportune time. Such a pity."

He pulled back and brandished a long needle, the grin on his face sent shivers through Jiyong's body. 

"Who are you? Where am I?" Jiyong's eyes darted around the room. His limbs felt heavy and his mind was sluggish. Why couldn't he clear his head? "Did you poison me?"

"Just a little opium. Nothing too harmful. If we don't do something about the wound on your hip, though, you might wish you were poisoned."

He glanced back at the stranger who was holding the needle, then down at himself. He was startled to find that he was naked from the waist down, and only a sheet covered his genitals. His gored hip was exposed, but it looked like the gash had been cleaned and packed with some sort of herbal medicine. "What are you doing? Are you a physician? Are you going perform acupuncture?"

"You don't want me sticking any needles in you, I can assure you. No, I'll leave the needlework to my assistant."

"Assistant?" Jiyong scanned the room and saw a boy in the corner who appeared to be dipping his hands in a bowl of steaming water. 

"She is far more skilled than I am at making stitches. Best I've ever seen. You probably won't even have a scar." 

The boy came forward and took the needle from the stranger. Jiyong noticed it was threaded with some kind of twine. Several questions clashed in his clouded mind and he tried to make sense of what he was seeing and hearing. Was he dreaming? He settled on the thing that puzzled him the most and raised his hand sluggishly to point at the boy. "She?"

"We all have our secrets around here," the stranger supplied. "Hyo Rin-ah here likes to pretend she's a fourteen-year-old boy. She goes by the name Hyo Jin. She cannot work as my assistant otherwise, you see."

The boy nodded and gave Jiyong a smile. Her eyes sparkled. Jiyong frowned at the dichotomy of the image, for he could see both a boy and a young woman in front of him.

"You have your own secret, too," the stranger said. He glanced down at the sheet that was covering the lower half of Jiyong's body, and Jiyong felt himself flush. "Now why would a young man disguise himself as a female in this day and age? Women don't enjoy half the freedoms that men do. I don't understand at all--unless the reason is that you don't want people to know your true identity..."

Panic burst through him. He tried to scramble off the mat he was lying on, but his limbs did not want to obey him. 

The stranger put a hand on his shoulder. "Stay calm. Can't have you pumping more blood out of your side. You've already lost more than you should. And don't worry about your secret. You know one of ours. We won't tell anyone if you show us the same courtesy."

He felt the intensity of the stranger's eyes, and when he looked at the girl who was also a boy, she nodded at him. "Does anyone else know?" he said.

"You are one of the only two people who now know Hyo Jin-ah's secret. As far as your own," the stranger shrugged, "we haven't told anyone else. I know this must be difficult, but I'm asking you to trust us. I have stopped the blood flow from your wound for the moment, but you need to let her sew you up before it becomes an issue again."

Jiyong wished his mind was clear. He didn't understand half of what the stranger was saying. But something about the man's serious expression and his soothing tone compelled him to nod his head. 

"Very good. Now, your pain might be somewhat dulled, but this is going to hurt. I can't give you more of the opium than I already have. If you don't want the ones outside this room breaking in here at the sounds of your screams and discovering your secret, you should try to keep your mouth shut."

"I will," Jiyong said. He looked at the girl with the needle. "Is she really going to… sew me like a piece of cloth?"

"That's the idea."

"I've never heard of this before."

"Don't worry, we've perfected the technique. Hardly anyone dies nowadays, do they Hyo Jin-ah?"

"What?" Jiyong's eyes grew wide.

The girl chuckled and shook her head. "Seonsaeng-nim is teasing you," she said in a soft voice. "He doesn't understand now is not the time to make a joke. I will be gentle, I promise. I have done this many times before under seonsaeng-nim's guidance."

Jiyong drew in a deep breath and let his head fall back on the mat. At this point he was sure he just needed to close his eyes so he could wake up in the real world. "Do what you must," he said. 

"So dramatic," the stranger said with a sigh. "Better make it quick Hyo Jin-ah." 

Jiyong was surprised when the stranger leaned over him and pinned his torso down. The girl straddled his leg, bracing him on that side, and then he felt the sharp prick of the needle.

If he wasn't being held down, he would have leaped off the mat. It wasn't just one brief jab, but his already painful wound was squeezed together as the girl speared him, slid the needle through, then tugged the twine out the otherside. And then repeated it all over again. 

The whole procedure seemed to take a lifetime as he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. In and through, pull and tug, in and through, pull and tug, in a steady motion that built layers and layers of pain that radiated from his hip down his leg and up his torso until he felt his breath come in short gasps. 

"She's almost done, boy. You're holding up better than I thought you would."

The last pull and tug came, and Jiyong groaned in blissful relief. 

"Excellent work, Hyo Jin-ah," the stranger said. "Your best yet, I think. Give me the alcohol and the cloth and I'll bandage him up. Go tell our friend that the woman he rescued will live to see another day." 

The girl nodded and bowed. "Thank you, seonsaeng-nim."

When she was gone, the stranger turned back to Jiyong and smiled. Jiyong thought he might be trying to reassure him, but the smile wasn't reassuring. The stranger showed him a bowl filled with a clear liquid. "Again, this will hurt a lot, but only for a moment," the stranger said. "The alcohol will help to keep the wound from going bad. I already scrubbed it clean with this when you were unconscious, be glad you were, but we'll need to check it regularly and continue to flush it clean."

Before he had a chance to consent, the stranger poured the liquid over the stitched up wound. Jiyong was forced to press his arm to his mouth to keep from crying out. It was over fast, and the man pressed a padded cloth onto the wound. The pressure felt good as it eased some of the pain. 

"Now we wrap you up to keep it in place. We'll get you dressed properly too. You're going to have a guest."

"Who?" Jiyong asked as the stranger eased him up to wrap the cloth securely around his hips. 

"Why, your hero, of course. The young man who so gallantly rescued you." 

Jiyong frowned, his fuzzy mind straining to comprehend. Images blurred in his head. There were things he shied away from, the dark blot that contained the pain of his mother's pending death, or the last meeting with his only friend, who he may never see again. He'd had to flee to Jeolla-do. He needed to get to Gwangju to find the gisaeng. But, he'd been ambushed. Attacked. Hurt. And found by a young man with soulful eyes. 

Glancing at the stranger, Jiyong said, "The magistrate?"

"He brought me here to treat your wound. Be thankful he did. Quite possibly he saved your life. It would have turned ugly fast." As the stranger helped Jiyong to pull on a clean chima and do up the ties, Jiyong felt exhaustion wash over him. "Do you have a name? One you want to give others?"

He hadn't really thought that far. He supposed he would need to think of one. "What about you, what's your name?"

"Me? Everyone calls me seonsaeng-nim. I'm not sure why. Makes me feel twenty years older." The stranger chuckled. 

He mulled over the man's words until finally he said, "We both have secrets we cannot reveal. You don't seem that much older than I, but you sound like a man who's seen and done much. I suppose I have no choice but to trust you for the moment. You can call me Song Jiwon. Song was my… mother's family name."

The stranger handed a damp cloth to him. "Pleased to meet you Jiwon-shi. You may want to clean your face and fix your hair before we invite the magistrate inside."

***

"Please have some tea, nauri." the gisaeng pointed to his empty cup and one of her girls quickly came forward to pour some of the fragrant brew for him. 

Lee Seungri bowed his head. "You do me too much honor." 

"It's not often that I get a visit from the governor's son. And certainly not under such exciting circumstances." The gisaeng smiled sweetly, but the emotion didn't reach her eyes. 

She was a beautiful woman, he could admit that in an abstract way, but beneath the makeup and the lavish wig, she was far older and more intelligent than the part she played. He knew her well enough to know she was not to be taken lightly. He smiled. "I'm very grateful you received me and the young woman into your household. Although I am uncertain as to your connection to her. But…" He reached into his overcoat and pulled out the envelope addressed to the gisaeng. "This appears to be yours."

The girl who had poured the tea bowed as he placed the envelope into her hands. She brought it over to her mistress and retreated from the room. 

"Thank you, nauri." The gisaeng pulled the wax seal from the letter and perused the contents while Seungri watched her. She appeared unaffected, except for a twitch of a muscle in her cheek. The gisaeng set the letter aside and brought her cup to her lips. "The girl is the daughter of one of my relatives who has fallen on hard times. She was sent here by her mother before she passed. So it is I who must thank you for bringing her to me."

"You've never met her?" 

"No. But I knew her mother very well." The gisaeng bowed her head and Seungri saw the shaking of her hand before she slipped it beneath the folds of her dress. 

"My condolences," he said. 

"It is… regrettable." Her brief flash of emotion was gone as she reached across the table and offered pointed out some sweets. "Please have some, nauri, and tell me how your father is doing?"

Seungri matched her expression as he schooled his own emotions. "You've probably seen him more recently than I have. I'm merely a bastard son."

"But one in high esteem," she responded. "He is always talking of you. But, the Governor must be otherwise occupied because he's not visited our establishment of late. Neither have you, nauri. My girls are becoming bored with only entertaining vapid young noblemen. They yearn for stimulating conversation."

He sipped his tea. The brew warmed his insides and helped ease some of the tension in his muscles. He had driven his horse at a grueling pace to bring the unconscious woman here, and seek out the services of the seonsaeng-nim. "My profession keeps me busy. But I will try not to neglect you in the future."

The door to the room slid open and one of the girls came inside and bowed to them both. Her eyes were wide with panic. "I'm sorry to disturb, but... " she bent down and whispered something into the gisaeng's ear. 

The gisaeng turned to look at Seungri. "One of our guests appears to have imbibed too much liquor. The girls are having difficulty placating him."

"May I offer my assistance?"

"I believe you know the young man in question."

He bowed and followed the girl out into the courtyard, curious as to which of his acquaintances was creating a disturbance. A group of gisaengs and patrons were clustered together in the courtyard, giggling and laughing and pointing up at the roof of one of the buildings. Seungri followed their line of sight and groaned when his eyes landed on the young man who was teetering on the edge of the roof.

The young man was singing loudly, and he had already stripped out of his jeogori and was currently loosening his baji from around his hips. 

"How many times this week?" he asked the girl.

"This is the first time he's climbed on the roof, nauri," she replied. 

"I'll get him down," Seungri said with a sigh and he pushed his way through the crowd to stand below where the young man was fumbling to take his clothes off. "Kang Daesung," he called out loudly.

The young man wobbled as he looked down, then caught his balance. His face split into a wide grin. "Ri-yah!" 

"Hyung, what are you doing?" Seungri positioned himself just below the ledge where his friend was standing. Of course it was Daesung making a spectacle of himself. Seungri didn't have many friends, but the youngest son of Gwangju's wealthiest merchant was one of his closest. He couldn't get angry at Daesung's drunken behavior—it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. He knew the pressure of his family’s expectations, ever since they had bought themselves into the yangban class with their wealth. But Daesung was no scholar and his hopes of passing the gwageo examinations were slim, so he generally ran from his obligations, and when he did it was usually in the direction of alcohol and women.

Daesung giggled from his rooftop perch. "I am entertaining all these good people with a song, Ri-yah."

"You could entertain them much better from down here."

"No…." Daesung shook his head, his movements exaggerated. "Up here, everyone can see me!"

"You should put your clothes back on, hyung. There are ladies present. They don't want to see you like that."

Folding his arms across his chest, Daesung pouted. "Don't lie. They love me like this."

Seungri sighed. He knew his friend was beyond the point of reason. He was going to have to climb up to the roof to get him down. "Well then, if a song needs to be sung, let me join you." He stepped back, then ran to jump up and catch the edge of the roof and swing himself up to where his friend was. The crowd behind him gasped. 

Daesung blinked when he found Seungri face to face with him. "Where did you come from?"

"I have an important mission for you, hyung." His friend's eyes widened as Seungri leaned in close. "It's a secret mission. You can't tell anyone else."

"You want some help with an investigation?" Daesung whispered loudly.

"Not an investigation, but…" Seungri pointed to the crowd below. "I can't tell you here, we can't let anyone know. It's a mission from the king."

Daesung gasped, his hand flying to cover his mouth. "From the king?"

"Hush. Nobody can know. Can you follow me?" Daesung nodded. "Quick, get dressed first, we don't have much time."

Daesung nodded again and grabbed the clothes that Seungri picked up from the roof. He struggled with his jeogori but finally managed to shrug the fabric of the tunic over his head. Seungri jumped easily from the roof, but his friend paused at the edge, biting his lip. 

"Come down, hyung, I'll catch you." Seungri waved him forward. 

Before he could set his feet, however, Daesung flung himself forward and landed on top of Seungri. They both tumbled to the ground, much to the amusement of the crowd who cheered behind them. 

Seungri groaned with the weight of the other man crushing him. "Get off me."

Daesung rolled onto the ground and started to giggle. "You said you would catch me."

"You didn't give me any time."

"What about our mission, Ri-yah?"

"Sorry. I lied."

"I guessed. But it was fun thinking about it." Daesung climbed to his feet and stuck his hand out. 

Seungri took it, and Daesung pulled him to his feet. He patted his friend on the back as he tried to catch his breath from having the wind knocked out of him. With nothing to entertain them, the crowd began to disperse into their separate parties. Seungri turned when he felt a tug at his sleeve.

"Nauri, Seonsaeng-nim sent me to tell you we have finished with the woman. She is doing well."

The boy who assisted the seonsaeng-nim bowed and Seungri felt something ease in his chest at his words. "Thank you, Hyo Jin-shi. May I speak with her?"

"Woman? Seonsaeng-nim is here? What's going on Ri-yah?" Daesung crept up behind him to look over his shoulder. “Hyo Jin-ah! You are here too?”

“You know wherever Seonsaeng-nim goes he goes,” Seungri said to his friend before turning back to the boy. “Is she awake now? Was the wound serious? There was so much blood I feared for her life. She was far too pale. I rode as fast as I could.”

“Don’t worry, nauri, the wound has been cleaned and sealed. She will heal in no time. You did good to bring Seonsaeng-nim to her. And she is awake if you wish to speak with her.”

Seungri nodded. “Yes, I need to ask about her attacker. And why she was traveling alone. I suppose she had no choice, though. From what gisaeng Hong Mae said, the girl may not have any family remaining."

“Ah, so this is only work.” Daesung rolled his eyes. “For a moment I thought out beloved Sato had stumbled on some romance, but of course that would never be.”

Grinning, Seungri slapped Daesung on the back. “You sound like my father, except you want me bedded instead of wedded.”

“It is only for your sake my friend. I wouldn’t want you to carry the title of the virgin magistrate to your grave.”

Seungri frowned. “Nobody calls me that but you.”

“Not to your face they don’t.”

Seungri spied Hyo Jin’s raised eyebrows. “Shut your ears boy, you’re too young for this sort of talk.”

Daesung moved to throw his arm around Hyo Jin. “Ignore that prude. I was your age when I first began to learn the ways of wooing women. Let me be your Hoobae in these matters. Heaven knows he never took any of my advice and look where it’s got him?”

Groaning, Seungri said, “Try not to corrupt the boy too much. Also can you let the mistress of this house know that her relative is awake?”

Performing a low bow, Daesung grinned and said, "As you wish, sato."

Seungri noticed that his friend didn't seem as inebriated as before. He wouldn't put it past Daesung to play the fool just to liven up the atmosphere whether he was drunk or not. He shook his head as he walked off to find the woman he'd saved. 

As he walked, he reflected that It was truly good fortune he'd been held up with a dispute at the village, otherwise he'd have returned to the magistrate's office while the sun was still high in the sky. It was also providence that he'd just so happened to be looking in the exact direction of where the altercation had occurred. He'd taken care of the bandit with a single arrow, a fine shot by anyone's standards, and had arrived just in time to catch the woman in his arms as she fainted, leaving him overwhelmed with the thought that he'd just saved her only for her to die in his arms.

Seungri walked towards the secluded back room where he'd carried the unconscious and bleeding woman a few hours before. He shivered a bit as he recalled her low voice, the timbre unusual for a woman. Before she'd fallen unconscious, she'd requested, no, demanded, really, that he take her to the gisaeng Hong Mae. It was as good a place as any to bring her, because he knew the gisaeng's residence in Gwangju was right next to the house of the best healer in the area, trained physicians be damned. So what if seonsaeng-nim had been a butcher in a former life? Seungri had seen the man work miracles. He was no Heo Im, he didn't know one end of an acupuncture needle from the other, but his strange techniques worked. With his adrenaline still pumping, he'd hoisted her onto his horse in front of him and raced against time to get her to into soensaeng-nim's capable hands alive.

The man himself exited the room ahead of him and grinned when he caught sight of Seungri. "Seungri-yah, thank you for bringing me a another patient. This must be one of my more unique cases. Never a dull moment around here."

"Thank you," Seungri said with a short bow. "Your assistance has proven invaluable once again. I hear she is doing well."

Seonsaeng-nim waggled his finger in front of Seungri. "Not invaluable. Hyo Jin-ah will be over with my invoice tomorrow."

"You're bleeding my coffers dry, hyung. I can't exactly write this off to medical expenses since you're not a court sanctioned physician."

"I don't care what you do as long as you pay me. A man's got to eat. Fortunately you keep sending me people who need to be put back together." 

"You're keeping my population more or less in one piece, so I suppose I can't complain. I'll create a budget for miscellaneous repairs."

Seonsaeng-nim laughed and patted Seungri's head. "You've always been such an inventive young man. Now, I know you're dying to speak with our patient, but remember she's just been through a fairly traumatic experience and will need rest more than anything to heal properly, so keep it short."

"Yes, hyung. I promise I only have a few questions." 

"Two questions. That's your limit. No more than that. I know you."

"Asking for her name doesn't count, does it?"

The other man laughed. "Stop trying to negotiate."

"I'll take that as a no," Seungri said with a grin. He patted his hyung's shoulder as he passed him on the stairs up to the porch. 

As he removed his shoes, his hyung slipped his on and said, "I'm going to find myself a drink. You should keep an eye on her while she sleeps. I'll need to know right away if she experiences any difficulty."

"Excuse me? Why should I be the one to watch her?"

"Because you rescued her. That means you're responsible for her."

"That's funny, hyung. She's related to Hong Mae, leave her in the gisaeng's care."

His hyung grabbed his arm and looked him with a serious expression. Seungri was shocked by the grimm shadows in his eyes. "I wouldn't advise that. Trust me, please, Ri-yah." 

Seungri swallowed as the sounds of cicadas in the dark seemed to drown out everything else. He nodded his head once, and his hyung let go of his arm. 

"Thank you," his hyung said, then smiled. "I'll be back later to see how the patient is doing."

"Will you tell me why you are concerned?"

"Let me formulate my thoughts first. It could be nothing. Just stay vigilant." He smiled sharply. "Now I need to find that drink."

"Okay, hyung. Kang Daesang is here if you're looking for entertainment," Seungri said as the other man turned to leave.

"Lovely. I figured that little scoundrel was around here somewhere," he called out behind him.

Seungri turned and approached the door. He hung his head for a moment. He'd somehow been roped into guard duty for the rest of the night because there was no chance his hyung would return before sunrise, and so it was up to him to remain on watch. But his unanswered questions still circulated through his head: Why did this woman need to be watched? Was she a danger to others? Or were others a danger to her? 

He knocked softly on the door and waited until he heard a low voice acknowledge him, then he pulled the door open and stepped inside. He bowed to the woman who had risen awkwardly at his entrance. The lamp light cast shadows across her pale face. “Please don't stand on my account. I know you have been through an ordeal.”

“I don’t stand on anyone’s account but my own,” she responded in a low, smooth voice. There was a definite scowl on her face.

“I see. Well, I’m sure you must be fatigued, so please sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

“Of course I'm tired. I’m also in pain. If I was comfortable being seated don’t you think I would have continued to do so?”

Seungri blinked. Hadn't he been the one to save her life? Had she forgotten him already? He bowed again. “I’m sorry, remain as you are if that is what you wish.”

The woman sniffed. She was tall, almost the same height as he was, but her demeanor gave him the impression she was looking down on him. 

He held back a sigh. “I really don’t mean to bother you, and I won’t keep you too long, but I would like to ask you some questions.”

“I guessed as much. I’ll agree to it but only if you answer mine first.” 

“Of course. I’ll answer as best I can. But… try to keep it brief. Seonsaeng-nim said you needed to rest."

She nodded once. “Very well. Now tell me your name?”

Seungri flushed. She was more direct than any woman he had ever met. “I am Lee Seungri. I was the one who came to your assistance--”

“That’s rather bold. To call yourself Victory?” She arched a questioning eyebrow.

His cheeks grew even warmer. “My mother named me that. I’m afraid I had no control over the matter.”

“And where is she now?”

“My mother?”

“Yes.” She looked at him fiercely, both hands on her hips.

Seungri licked his lips. How was this in any way relevant? Yet, he felt compelled to answer. “She’s dead.”

Her eyes widened and she took a small step back. She dropped her gaze, and suddenly all her bravado seemed to have fled. If anything, she looked even more pale than before. "I see," she said, her voice unsteady. "I'm sorry I asked."

Seungri stepped forward, his hand automatically reaching out in case she should collapse again. He dropped his hand to his side when he realised his action. "It's okay. I was young when it happened."

She flashed a look at him and he was staggered by the rawness of the emotion contained in her eyes. And then he realised why and he wished the ground could open up and swallow him. From what the gisaeng had said, she had very recently lost her own mother. 

Seungri straightened and moved back. "I'm sure your memories of your mother are still fresh. Forgive me."

"How did you know?" Her voice had changed to a growl. It made his skin prick. "Were you following me, too? Are you one of her spies? Answer me!"

Her last command made him jump. "Gisaeng Hong Mae. I gave her your letter. She told me your mother had passed."

"You swear?" She stalked closer to him, and Seungri's pulse began to race. 

"Yes, of course. How else? I've never seen you before."

She stopped just short of a handbreadth away. Her eyes narrowed as she considered him carefully. Under her scrutiny, he struggled to draw in a breath. His whole body grew hot. And then she blinked before moving away from him. "You're an innocent. That much is easy enough to determine."

Seungri sucked in a lungful of air while his heart still pounded. He felt as if he'd narrowly escaped the hangman's noose. He took in her profile as she stood facing the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She was definitely unlike any woman he'd ever met before, in more ways than one. Although her face was soft, it was also hard. The line of her nose, the pointed chin and the dark slash of her brows were too strong for the feminine curve of her cheeks. He wouldn't' say she was beautiful, but she was… compelling. 

"Have I answered all your questions?" he asked tentatively.

"Is this the gisaeng Hong Mae's house?"

"It is."

She nodded. "And the man and his assistant who tended to my wound… you brought them here?"

"I did. I promise that Choi Seonsaeng-nim is very good at what he does. Better than any physician you'll ever--"

Holding up her hand, she said, "You are the magistrate of this area? Gwangju?"

"Yes. I--"

"And who put you in charge?"

"It was my father." He wasn't sure why, but he felt a little ashamed to admit that. But his exam score had been the highest in Joella-do in a decade, still, they would have meant nothing if his father had refused to acknowledge him.

"I see. And who is your father?"

"Lee Yeon Jin."

"Lee Yeon Jin? The governor of Joella-do?"

Seungri answered with a nod as she finally turned to face him again.

"You look nothing like him." The comment, laced with amusement as it was, threw him off balance once again. He could only stare. She unfolded her arms and put her hands back on her hips. "You've answered sufficiently for now. But it's important that I speak to gisaeng Hong Mae. Go tell her to come here."

Seungri turned to move before he realised what he was doing. He stopped, turned back and said, "What about my questions?"

She simply waved him away. "Come and ask me tomorrow. Didn't your seonsaeng-nim tell you I needed rest? Now go and fetch the gisaeng quickly." 

"Don't I at least get the courtesy of your name?"

He almost wished he could suck back the words when she stared at him for a long moment, but he held his place and decided to stare back. He held her eyes with his and had to clench his fists to keep from flinching. She was the first to break the eye-contact. "Song Jiwon," she said. "I go by that name."

It should have felt like a victory, but it didn't. He felt like he'd just been dismissed. 

With that, Seungri stumbled out of the room, his foot catching against the frame and making him wince in pain. He looked back briefly and saw her with her head bent, fixing the ribbon that held the braid of her dark hair with slender fingers. His heart stopped for just a moment. He couldn't explain why. Perhaps because in that ordinary moment, she looked vulnerable. Like she needed someone to protect her. He turned and closed the door behind him. Seungri walked off into the night to find the gisaeng as she'd commanded before he could return to take up his watchman's post outside her door.


	3. Sweet Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally and update! For those of you who are still reading, thanks for your patience :)

A ball of horror rose in Jiyong's throat as he stared at the prostate gisaeng before him. "Please, sit up," he whispered urgently, but the lady shook her head. 

"Your highness, I am overwhelmed with the honor of your presence."

He swallowed and darted a glance at the door. Even now he could the shadow of the magistrate standing just outside. Why wasn't he leaving? "Hong Mae-shi, I beg you do not speak so loudly. Nobody can know who I am. You must not show me any deference."

The gisaeng sat up suddenly and smiled at him. Or at least her lips curved upwards--he couldn't be sure it was a smile. "No, of course not, your highness. You must be famished after your arduous journey and the injury you suffered. We are preparing a meal fit for a king… or a prince at any rate."

Jiyong leaned against the wall as he felt his vision narrow. He was light headed from pain, and the opium he'd been dosed with was turning everything hazy. The thought of eating made his empty stomach turn. He shook his head. "I don't need anything. Please don't waste food on me."

He stared at the floor, wondering if he should sit before he passed out. The gisaeng quickly stood and reached out to him, but he waved away her her offer of assistance. She hovered as he tried to get down onto the floor. His awkward movements made his wound tug and he winced as a sharp pain brought tears to his eyes. The gisaeng let out a sigh. "Do you want me to treat you like a prince, or like my young female relative?"

Jiyong bit his lip. "I suppose going forward, you had better treat me like your relative."

Any trace of subservience in the gisaeng's expression melted. "Don't faint when I touch you," she said. 

With a brusque motion, she grabbed him around his waist and helped him over to the mat, where she eased him down so he was stretched out in the most comfortable position. Each motion jarred, but once he was closer to the floor again, he felt relief wash through him. 

"Thank you," he said. 

The gisaeng sat back and looked at him. Her eyes were penetrating. "You really are Song Inwon's son, aren't you?"

"You knew my mother well?”

The gisaeng’s eyes dropped briefly. "We grew up together."

"One of the last things she said to me was that you were someone she loved very much."

When the gisaeng looked at him again, her soft smile was the first true emotion he had seen on her face. "We were as close as sisters. I'm pleased to hear she still thought of me in that way." Her expression turned sad. "And I'm sorry to hear she has been cut down by another's cruel ambition. She did not deserve that."

Jiyong shut away the pain of his mother's passing that was like a hot coal inside his heart. "I believe my mother knows who to trust and who not to trust. I must throw myself on your mercy. I am reduced to nothing. I have no title, no lineage. I've even lost my horses and the small amount of possessions I had with me. I left my only friend behind. My name is currently a death sentence. These are the circumstances I find myself in."

"What do you plan to do?"

Jiyong chewed the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he said quietly, "I will take away everything she has. I'll have to raise support without alerting her to my whereabouts. She absolutely cannot know where and who I am." He raised his eyes to the gisaeng. "You understand I could fail? Actually, the chances are very high that I will fail. She has everything, and I have nothing. Are you still willing to aide me despite the what could happen to you if I don't succeed?"

The gisaeng caught him off guard by laughing loudly. "Well, at least you know it's not going to be an easy path. But... " She leaned forward and her voice dropped to a whisper… "Don't underestimate the power of slaves. We will do whatever we can to aide your highness. We have our ways of getting information, knowing who you should approach and who to steer clear of. We can sift out the yangban who would hurt you. If we work together, your chances of success are much improved." 

"And in return?"

"In return, you'll owe me a favor. One I’ll be sure to collect."

Jiyong narrowed his eyes. "Of course. Isn't that how the world works?"

"I'm glad you understand. You aren't Song Inwon. She is no longer of this world and I won't put my own safety and that of my girls at risk for anyone else. If it looks like you're going to falter, I will not hesitate to abandon you. But if you win, you will owe me."

"I would never dare to think I was good enough to be like her. And for for now, I'm only Song Jiwon. Nobody else must know my true identity. Can you assure me of secrecy?”

The gisaeng nodded, her shrewd eyes assessing him. "We'll have to agree to trust each other. For now."

Did he really think she might be just another simpering sycophant when she first introduced herself to him? It showed his weak state of mind that he’d been wrong. Despite his somewhat frivolous exterior, he wasn’t stupid. But he had been disinterested and careless before, and he’d paid far too dearly for it. He would never let his guard down again. 

She fixed a comb in her hair and said, "Your mother knew nobody would think to look for you here. And I owe her that much to keep your identity hidden. You will have to reveal yourself at some point, but for now we'll keep you as a woman. Hiding in plain sight is best, don't you think? You do make a pretty one. Even your skin is soft.” She had the audacity to touch his cheek briefly. “I daresay some of my girls will be jealous of you. But we’ll keep you separate from them if you don’t want to be discovered…We'll never pass you off as one of the cheonmin anyway. I’ll say you are my highborn cousin’s daughter seeking refuge from your family that wishes to marry you off to a brute. Can you play the part?”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

“Good. Now that we’ve settled that, at least have some soup and rice. You look like you're about to faint, Jiwon-shi."

"Thank you," he said. He was surprised to find his feelings of gratitude were genuine.

"Your thanks can wait until you’ve accomplished your task." The gisaeng stood and opened the door. She called one of her girls and spoke instructions, and before too long, a table was set up in front of him with hot broth and warm rice. 

The girl bowed and smiled at him before exiting, and he caught a glimpse through the open door of the figure of the magistrate standing in the shadows. The moonlight gilded his strong profile, accentuating his strong nose and jawline. The door slid shut after the retreating servant, cutting off his view, and Jiyong bent to sip at his broth despite the queasiness in his stomach. 

“Tell me about the magistrate,” he said.

“You met him earlier. What are your thoughts on our Sato?” the gisaeng responded.

“He’s a boy. An innocent.”

The gisaeng pursed her lips. “He’s young, yes. But he’s seen more of the world than you have, I would vouch. He’s tenacious, too. Like a dog that doesn’t let go. They say he’s a very good magistrate.”

Jiyong snorted. “Is that why he’s lurking outside the door? Because I wouldn’t answer his bloody questions earlier?”

“Actually I think he’s appointed himself your personal guard.”

The rice he was eating stuck in his throat and he coughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe you should let him. It wouldn’t hurt to have some protection.”

Jiyong looked back at the shadow that fell across the screen door. The gisaeng had a point. “Should I trust him?”

“He has honor, if that’s what you’re asking.” The gisaeng pursed her lips, then added, “It’s the father you’ll need to get to. He’s the one with money and power.”

“The governor? I met him once. He seemed like a good man.”

“Good is relative when you’re dealing with a politician.”

Jiyong glanced at her as he picked at his bowl of rice. “You don’t like him?”

“I’m certainly not in any position to give my personal opinion of him. I’m sure you will like him and his money well enough if you can convince him to support your cause.”

Looking down at the table of barely eaten food, Jiyong’s vision began to waver. Exhaustion stole over him. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “Can’t be too careful. But I’ll keep the magistrate close in the meantime.”

“Pretty young woman like you… I’m sure you won’t have any trouble attaching him.”

Jiyong yawned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Unless you’re going to divulge your true identity, our beloved sato will be history once he finds out you don’t have answers to his questions. You’ll have to learn how to do things the way a woman does if you want to get anywhere. Especially if you want an introduction to his father.”

“So I should seduce him? Is that what you’re saying?”

The gisaeng pursed her lips. “Seduction only gets you so far. He’ll not want to introduce his potential mistress to his daddy. No… you need to make him fall in love with you.” Jiyong's eyes snapped up to the gisaeng's and she chuckled, then dipped her head. "Just a suggestion, Jiwon-shi, now I'll take my leave. One of the girls will stop by a little later to clean up so you can take some rest." 

She left him with a great deal to ponder, but his mind was in too much of a fog to think of anything important except dwell on what it would be like to make the young magistrate fall for him. 

***

The steps were cold and hard and he was tired. Seungri had bowed silently to the gisaeng hours before as she had left the room of her young relative. Now the moon was high in the black sky, swollen in its fullness. The crickets sang a rhythm that had him resting his head against a thick pillar and closing his eyes. As he drifted between sleep and wake, the face of his charge appeared in front of him: red lips, pale skin, and dark, flashing eyes. 

The more he thought about her, the more she became a contradiction. Fainting in his arms one moment, then ordering him around like a lord the next. All the girls his father had tried to throw in his direction were soft and shy, barely even able to talk when he tried to engage them in conversation. He'd tried to find something about them that intrigued him, but not one of them had ever been able to catch his interest. This woman, however… Seungri’s mouth curved up as he thought about her long slender fingers fixing the ribbon in her hair. 

A yell broke through his reverie and snatched the image from his mind. He sat up, blinking groggily. He heard it again, this time more like a moan of anguish. it came from the girl's room. Scrambling to his feet, he snatched his hat from beside him and charged inside.

He spotted her sleeping form under the moonlight that slanted in from the high windows. She was clearly agitated, thrashing around beneath her blankets and mumbling incoherently. Her face glistened with sweat and veins stood out on her neck as if she struggled with an opponent in her sleep. 

Seungri crouched down beside her, his heart beating fast. He didn't know what to do. Should he wake someone caught in a nightmare? He reached across and placed his fingertips against her forehead. Her skin was hot to the touch. 

She twisted away from him and cried out, "No, no…" dragging the phrase into a long moan. 

He gently grasped her shoulders. "Agashi," he whispered. "Please wake up."

Her arm came up and she shoved him hard enough to send him flying. Seungri blinked, finding himself on his back. He winced and moved to get back up, but when he looked up, he found her sitting upright in her blankets with her eyes wide open, staring at him. 

"Who are you?" she said. "Where am I?"

Her low voice sent a shiver through him. "It's okay, you were having a bad dream." 

She looked down at her lap, frowned and then looked back up at him. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to say something, but then she started to shake. 

"Are you okay?" He scooted closer to her. 

"Cold," she said, then bit her lip. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, and he could see the panic they contained. Her teeth started to chatter. 

He found himself touching her forehead again. "But you're burning. You can't be cold."

"I'm freezing." She hugged her arms around herself and he could see she was clearly shivering. 

"Lie down. I think your injury has made you sick." Gently, he pushed her back onto the mat and and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. He'd seen this before, where a man would burn with fevers after being wounded and there was always a chance he would fall into a slumber that he wouldn't wake up from. "I should find the Seonsaeng-nim."

He started to get up, but she reached out and grabbed his sleeve. "Please don't leave me."

"Trust me," he said, putting his hand over hers. "Seonsaeng-nim knows best how to treat you. You are in danger if you do not let me get him."

"Am I going to die, too?" The words settled inside his chest like a dagger. Her bright, too wide eyes pleading with him twisted the shaft. 

"You're strong. I promise you'll be okay. I won't be long." He adjusted a cushion under her head. "Close your eyes. I'll be back before you know it."

She nodded and dropped her hand. He watched as she turned her head and closed her eyes. Her breathing was shallow, but gradually evened out. Seungri touched her cheek, then snatched his hand back. What was he doing? He scrambled to his feet and set off to find the Seonsaeng-nim. 

He wasn't surprised to find the Seonsaeng-nim in a room surrounded by giggling gisaengs while he downed a bowl of milky liquor. He also wasn't surprised to find a passed out Daesung with his head in Seonsaeng-nim's lap. 

One of the gisaengs, a young woman with large eyes and delicate features, grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him down next to her. "He has the best stories, doesn't he," she said, "I love when he comes to visit us. So entertaining!"

He pulled her hand off of his sleeve. "I'm sorry, but I need Seonsaeng-nim to come with me."

The man in question noticed his presence at the table and grinned broadly. "Ah, our young Sato. I'm regaling the ladies with stories from my youth." He grabbed a decanter and sloshed it towards him. "Have a drink, boy. You look far too serious."

"The woman," Seungri blurted. "She's very sick, please you must come and seet to her."

Seonsaeng-nim frowned. "What woman?" He downed the contents of his bowl. "This is not a very good vintage."

Seungri groaned. It was not the time for his hyung to be drunk. He'd start talking about strange things and using words nobody was familiar with. "The woman who I brought here earlier. The one whose wound you tended to. Surely you haven't been drinking that much?"

Tapping his lips with a finger, the seonsaeng-nim's brows furrowed. Then his expression changed to one of understanding. "Oh! That woman." He giggled. "Of course I remember. She's rather striking, don't you think?"

"She's in danger," Seungri said flatly. "I heard her cry out, and found her sleeping fitfully. She appears to be brought down by fevers. You must come now."

Seonsaeng-nim looked down at his lap and the sleeping man whose head was pillowed there. He brushed his fingers over Daesung's brow and shook his head. "Better not move. Don't want to disturb this pretty one. You take care of the, um, lady."

Seungri rubbed at his temples as his frustration mounted. "I'm not a physician."

His hyung shrugged. "Neither am I. Is she hot to the touch?"

Coughing, Seungri glanced at the gisaengs whose eyes were all on him. He really shouldn't admit he'd touched her. "I… believe so."

"Color of her skin?"

"Pale."

"Sweating or dry?"

"Dry. I think."

"Is she able to breathe without struggling?"

"She was breathing lightly, but she wasn't struggling."

Nodding, the seonsaeng-nim picked a grape from one of the platters in front of him and popped it in his mouth. "I was afraid this would happen. No matter how thorough, there's still a chance for infection. Use cold water, and sponge her forehead and neck regularly. Also this…" He pulled a small pouch of crushed up tea from his pocket and tossed it to Seungri. "Make a tea with water that's boiled. It's willow bark. Have her drink three cups, small sips, not all at once. And no more than that. If her fever breaks, she'll sweat. If she falls unconscious, not just asleep, without her fever breaking, get me right away. Otherwise I will check her wound in a few hours."

"You want me to play nursemaid? Surely one of these--" He pointed at the gisaengs surrounding the table.

The healer raised an eyebrow. "You promised to be her guardian. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, but--"

Seonsaeng-nim waved his hand at him. "Then don't waste anymore of my time. I want you to see to her personally, understand?"

"Of course, I…" Seungri stood up and clutched the bag of tea to his chest. "Can you send someone with the necessities you spoke of."

"I'm sure that can be done. You there,” he pointed at the gisaeng next to him, “get him what he needs.”

The girl giggled and nodded.

"Hyung, is she really in danger?" 

The other man sighed as he poured more liquor into his bowl. "Just stay by her side for the rest of the night, I'm sure she's frightened. We'll know more about her condition in the morning, but right now, I'm not concerned."

Seungri nodded. His heart unclenched just a little. He turned to hurry back, and the gisaeng followed after him. 

When they reached the woman's room, the gisaeng said, "I'll arrange for the water bath and the tea, nauri," before she scurried away in the direction of the kitchen.

Seungri let himself quietly back into the room. He could see the woman had fallen back asleep, but when he knelt down next to her and pressed his fingers against her cheek, she was still radiating heat. 

The gisaeng returned before too long with an older servant and they placed a wide bowl of cool water next to him as well as the tea that had been brewed. 

Seungri nodded at the gisaeng. "Thank you… your name, it’s Sun Mi, isn't it?" 

She bowed for him. "Yes, nauri. Perhaps it would be better if I tend to the woman, instead?”

For a moment, he thought about agreeing, but the words his hyung had told him earlier made him shake his head. The healer had his reasons for concern and he trusted him more than anyone else in this world. In the three years since he'd first met the man, he'd become like an older brother to him, closer than any of his real brothers. "I'd better obey Seonsaeng-nim. You know how he gets when we don't listen to him."

The gisaeng frowned. “I’ll tell my mistress then.”

Seungri hesitated, then said, “Please don’t bother her. You heard Seonsaeng-nim, he is not concerned. If anything changes I will be sure to let your mistress know personally.”

Sun Mi gave him a weary look but she nodded in agreement. She pointed to the servant. “This is Kim Donghyun, he will wait outside in case there is anything you should need.”

“Thank you.”

Sun Mi and Donghyun left him alone with the sick woman and the only sound in the room was her slight rasp as she breathed in and out. He set about soaking the cloth they'd brought in the cool water, then dabbed it gently over her forehead, down the side of her face and along her neck as the seonsaeng-nim had told him to do. His fingers trembled as he tried to keep his movements subtle, but still the woman twitched and let out a low groan under his ministrations. 

She looked too pale, and so fragile. He didn't know if the cool water was helping, but he thought she seemed less agitated. He didn't want to disturb her, but she still needed to drink the tea seonsaeng-nim had ordered, so he shook her shoulder. "Agashi, please, wake up for just a moment."

Her eyes fluttered open, but they seemed clouded over, as if she was looking at him but not seeing him. He bit his lip. "You have to drink medicine, please." 

When she didn't respond, he slipped his arm underneath her shoulders and helped her to sit up. She followed his direction wordlessly, but when she was sitting, her head slumped against his chest. Seungri shifted to cradle her, then reached for the tea. He brought the cup to her lips and nudged the edge against them. "Drink. It will make you better. I promise."

He tilted the cup and she obediently sipped from it. 

"That's it," he said. "Take it slow." 

He waited for a moment then made her drink again, continuing to encourage her after each tiny sip. She grew languid in his arms, and when the tea was finally done, she slipped back into sleep, her soft snores reverberating against his chest. Seungri's lips curled into a tiny smile as he looked down at her. He touched his fingers to her forehead, and although she was still warm, he could swear she wasn't burning as hot as she'd been previously. He could also make out the dotted beads of sweat that were forming on her forehead and her neck. The seonsaeng-nim's remedies appeared to be working and the knot in his chest unravelled just a bit.


End file.
